


Van Helsing

by malice_delacour



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Vampire Hunters, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 14:41:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1944987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malice_delacour/pseuds/malice_delacour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle Van Helsing in a vampire hunter in a long line of vampire hunters. It is her duty to eradicate the world of these vile creatures of the night. But such a task may prove more difficult than initially anticipated when one Anthony Gold crosses her path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tracking

Her fate had been sealed since before her birth. She was to be a vampire hunter. Like her father before her, and his father before him and his father before him. She remembered being taught at a very young age that vampires were abhorrent creatures that were put on this earth for one reason, to be slain. And who was she to contradict three generations of speciesism? But she was a clever girl. She always had been. The only trait that could hope to rival her cleverness was her boundless curiosity. Her father always told her that it would get her killed one of these days. If he only knew how true those words would prove to be.

She roamed the streets, the darkness of the evening settling around her as she kept her facade in place. Vampires were notorious for their tastes. They enjoyed preying on those weaker than them; young children and women who knew no better than to travel the streets alone. Though they would occasionally hunt down stronger prey for the sport of it, they usually stuck to the weaker of the human species. She could feel him before she saw him and she felt the thrill of the kill forming within her. The adrenaline formed within her, causing her heart to race as she took a detour down an abandoned alley.

She hummed to herself as she continued on her way, ignoring the lone figure that danced across the rooftops above her. She held her hands in the sleeves of her gown, her slender fingers encased in her black leather gloves. In her hands she held a stake forged from silver, anointed by the Pope himself. Holstered beneath her traveling cloak was a rapid fire crossbow loaded with silver tipped arrows. They wouldn't take a vampire out, but they would be enough to stop one long enough for her to stake it.

“You know, stalking is against the law.” she called, a smirk curving her crimson lips as she caught sight of the creature looming in the shadows before her. She came to a stop as she waited for him to reveal himself, tilting her head back in a haughty manner as he finally stepped forward. “Desteapta fata.” His tone was thick with the accent of his Romanian descent.

She smirked as she met his gaze, taking in the way his hues glinted like those of a cat. “How long have you known I was trailing you?” he asked, moving to circle her as he kept his gaze trained upon her. “Since I left the cemetery.” she said, remaining unmoving. She had to focus on him, on his movements and the threat he posed to her. “Do you make it a habit of being so obvious, vampir prost?” There was agitation in his hues as he hissed, moving to slam her slender form against the wall. “Cățea prost... Do you know to whom you speak?” he growled, leaning in close as he held her gaze. “Bogdan Zaituc... Your reputation proceeds you. And yet you turn out to be just as foolish as every other vampire that has crossed my path.”

She did not allow him to respond, her lithe hands shoving the silver stake deep into his heart as he opened his mouth. His hues widened in surprise as his skin began to dry up, his once intimidating form staggering back from her. She watched as his black blood spread from the wound in his chest, soaking his fine suit as his life force fled from his body. He fell to the ground as his legs lost their strength, his hands clawing at his throat as the thirst took hold. “Pe care?” He hadn't the strength to speak in the common tongue. “Belle Van Helsing.”

Her cerulean hues watched with satisfaction as his body blackened, burning from the inside until it resembled a burnt log. And with a nudge of her foot, he turned to ash. The clattering of the stake falling to the ground echoed in the silence as the air settled around her. She stooped to retrieve it before she stepped over the pile of ash to carry on her way.


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To be a Vampire Hunter was to bind oneself to a life of solitude.

She returned to her humble abode to find it as it was prone to be; silent and empty. Being what she was meant she could have no relationships. Friends were a distant memory. And a husband? It was out of the question. If she were to ever bare a child, it would only hinder her in her work. It was a weakness she could not afford to have. No, until this land was free of these creatures, she was bound to this life of solitude.

She allowed a soft sigh to slip past her lips as she undid the clasp of her cloak. The garment slid from her shoulders and into her arms as she crossed to the coat rack that sat in the corner of her small living room. She hung it there, watching the way the dark blue fabric seemed to flutter before it settled against the wood of the coat rack. With a sigh she turned to her kitchen, her slender hands coming to rest at her hips as she surveyed her nearly bare cupboards.

Though she did her job well, it was not a profession that afforded much in the way of luxury. The public was to remain oblivious to the existence of vampires. Which meant that vampire hunters were enlisted by the church to eradicate the unholy creatures. The job was not entirely without benefit however. Belle was allowed to live in this modest home and she received a monthly stipend to cover the cost of her food. She couldn't really ask for more.

Deciding that tea would suffice, she moved to put the kettle on, her slender frame moving towards the desk that sat in the corner of the room. Its surface was littered with a clutter of newspaper articles and blueprints. She was an inventor by nature, creating various weapons to assist her in her life's goal. Some of these inventions the Vatican was aware of. Others... Well some things were better left to secrecy. The less the Vatican knew about the dirty work, the better.

Her slender fingers trailed the desk to pick up a black leather-bound journal. The edges of the pages were frayed, the cracks in the leather betraying the age of the book. She took up her quill as she flipped through it, scribbles and scratch lines covering the surfaces of most of the pages. She came to the most recent additions to the journal, a satisfied smile curving her lips as she came to the name she had been searching for. With a slight flourish, she crossed off Bogdan Zaituc.


End file.
